Heronstar
by ShellfurOfSeaClan
Summary: Long before Bluestar's time, the Clans fell into darkness. In a lethal world full of fighting with tooth and claw and ambitious leaders, young Heronpaw must rise through ThunderClan's ranks, while trying not to lose sight of who she is. Maybe... she can change the Clans' twisted ways. She may be their only hope...
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

"I think... tomorrow would be the perfect time."

The words drawled from his mouth with a soft, purring tone. Slick as a snake. Tanglestar watched the queen's reaction closely. Her blue eyes glittered, their likeness to ice extraordinary, as she contemplated his statement with her head tipped to one side.

"I look forward to it," she replied formally, her eyes narrowed. "Let's see which of them deserves a place in ThunderClan's ranks. I hope my offspring will do me proud."

"I'm sure they will, Vinestrike," Tanglestar purred, though his eyes remained as cold and elusive as ever. "If not, they will be disposed of like any other Clan kit."

"Good."

"You never could stand weakness, could you?" he asked as she turned to leave the shadowy den. His sharp eyes saw her pause. Her ears flicked upright in surprise. This was a personal question – not a methodical plan of the future.

"No. And if any of my kits show any signs of betrayal, I will personally find the most satisfactory way to rid them of the forest."

"What cold words, Vinestrike..." he almost felt amused. This she-cat held no emotion. "Precisely the reason I chose you as deputy."

"And I have served you well," she shot over her shoulder, fur rippling as she leaped smoothly out the entrance. A dark, clear night sky glittered beyond her silhouette, along with the cool black forest that whispered secrets with its countless leaves.

Tanglestar allowed a rush of air to escape his muzzle as he snorted softly in amusement. He knew Vinestrike would never let him down. ThunderClan was strong, and would become stronger still, with the new rules set down for future generations of cats.

"Tanglestar?" a voice called, and the leader saw a shape move into his den.

"Brownwhisker – what do you want?" he meowed curtly, feeling a prickle of unease as he recognized the medicine cat.

The old cat was staring at him intently. "The apprentice ceremony?"

"Yes. Tomorrow," Tanglestar snapped. Brownwhisker had obviously been listening in and had heard the exchange between ThunderClan's two leaders, and it rubbed his fur the wrong way.

"Which kits?" the medicine cat asked, his blue eyes shadowed with worry and experience.

Tanglestar shot the tabby a look. Did Brownwhisker think Tanglestar was going to change his mind? A sharp-toothed grin curled the leader's muzzle as he answered. "Owlkit, Hawkkit, Jumpkit, Heronkit and Pinekit. And they will fight to the death, Brownwhisker, no matter what you say."


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Mist was descending from the river upstream, rolling towards the undergrowth in waves of pearly white. Heronkit could see the long, thin silhouettes of the reeds ahead of her, and the river beyond made her breath catch in her throat. It felt like a dream – like she had entered StarClan. The black river flowed swiftly, silently. Normal shapes of branches and rocks were distorted in the mist. Everything looked unearthly, ethereal.

 _RiverClan must live across that river_ , Heronkit thought. Excitement rushed through her and she bounded between piles of smooth rocks, warmed by the early morning sun. _Is this Sunningrocks?_ she wondered.

Heronkit was doing something forbidden. But it was the fact that _none_ of this was _allowed_ that made it so enjoyable. Adrenaline pumped through her. Her senses grew sharper. The little kit fluffed out her black and white fur. The rocks were warm against her flanks, the ground soft and spongy underpaw, the air tasted heavy with moisture and growing plants. Her legs were starting to ache from walking so far from camp and creeping away from her Clan, but she didn't care. Her heart was pounding. At any moment, she could be discovered. The fur on the back of Heronkit's neck was prickling. But she wanted to see a RiverClan warrior. Where were they all? The river is where they fish – why weren't they there on the banks?

Heronkit weaved her way past Sunningrocks and came towards the slippery grass of the sloping bank. Water lapped at the sandy mud further down. The mist was heavier now, and it blanketed Heronkit's surroundings. A chill was in the air – the morning newleaf sun hadn't yet burned off all the cold fog from the night. Heronkit felt a shiver run through her. She peered down at the blue-black water, trying to spot a fish.

A noise suddenly split the quiet morning air. It was a piercing, bird-like screech, but it wasn't like any normal bird. A dark shape suddenly materialized out of the mist. Heronkit gasped, surprise shooting through her. A winged creature loomed in front of her for a split second. It was massive, with black, white and grey feathers, and a long beak and feet. Then it flapped its huge wings – each one three times longer than Heronkit's body – and rose up into the sky.

Heronkit had been thrown onto her back by the rush of air as the strange bird flew past. Her whole body trembling like a limp leaf, she staggered to her paws. Her lungs felt flattened and her heart was thumping. She stood with her claws sank into the ground, trying to get her breath back.

"Heronkit!" a sharp meow sounded from somewhere behind her. Heronkit turned to see a familiar face, a cat striding towards her.

"Nettlefur!" she gasped in relief, her voice weak and croaky. "What was that... that _thing_?"

"What, the bird?" the older warrior meowed. "Just a heron. They hunt for fish in the river. _You_ should know that. They are your namesake, after all." Then the warrior's green eyes flashed. Her spiky fur, dappled with faint tortoiseshell markings but also striped like a tabby's pelt, bristled even more until she looked like a hedgehog. " _What_ in the name of StarClan are you doing out here? You're a kit! Kits aren't allowed outside camp! I can't believe you had the nerve and the audacity to even attempt it!"

Kits were drilled with the warrior code as soon as they were old enough to leave the nursery. Rules were strict. Heronkit felt that there was a huge lecture coming along – she could almost see it building up inside the warrior. She vaguely decided she didn't like Nettlefur much. The she-cat was leading Heronkit back towards camp.

"Heronkit, your mother is going to be so ashamed and angry with you. You're the deputy's daughter! You're supposed to be setting an example!"

Heronkit stifled a groan. Not the parent attack! How many times had she heard this? Nettlefur was so predictable.

"I'm a _kit_ ," she muttered. At the last minute she realised how cheeky her words must sound and lowered her voice so the sentence came out quietly.

Nettlefur didn't look at her; her gaze was still fixed on the path ahead of them. Her tail flicked. "Not for long you won't be."

"What?" Heronkit stopped dead. _What did I just hear?_ "Nettlefur?"

The warrior glanced back at the kit. "Hurry _up_!" she snapped. "I was sent to fetch you back, and I'm not just going to stand around answering your questions! Vinestrike will be waiting for you." And she set off before Heronkit could speak again, her long legs making easy work of the difficult scramble through the forest.

By the time the two cats arrived, Heronkit was breathless and her legs were aching again. She didn't even realise they were at the camp until Nettlefur disappeared between two unassuming thorn bushes. The thicket of barbed plants turned out to be the outside of the barrier that surrounded the camp, and there was a sloping tunnel of sandy earth that led down to the ravine where ThunderClan's camp was.

Heronkit followed Nettlefur into the camp. As the warrior had predicted, Vinestrike was stood waiting for them. Her blue eyes flashed when she caught sight of her daughter.

"Heronkit! What do you think you're doing?" Vinestrike hissed. "Sneaking away from camp? This isn't how apprentices behave!"

 _Apprentice?_ That was twice apprenticeship had been mentioned.

"Am I going to be an apprentice?" Heronkit whispered, hardly daring to believe it.

Vinestrike hesitated, glancing at Nettlefur. The younger warrior shrugged at the deputy. "I have a good mind to suspend your apprenticeship," the fierce warrior queen growled. "But Tanglestar has said for your challenge to be today."

"But I'm only three moons old!" Heronkit piped up, confused. "Jaycloud told me that kits were apprenticed at six moons."

Vinestrike stiffened. Danger flared in her eyes. " _Jaycloud_ is an _elder_. Things were run very differently when Jaycloud was a young warrior, before Tanglestar became leader."

"Why? Why did Tanglestar change everything?" Heronkit surprised herself with her own nerve. Vinestrike obviously didn't like this subject.

"It wasn't just Tanglestar – it was all four leaders," Vinestrike meowed stiffly. "And the rules were changed to make the Clans better, to improve the system. Now stop asking me questions and go to sleep." Her eyes flickered to Heronkit's legs, which were shaking with fatigue after the long walk. "If you want to stand a chance in the assessment, you'll have to get your energy back."

Heronkit took her cue, glad to get away from her angry mother. She was relieved she'd gotten off so lightly, with only one lecture burning her ears instead of two. Maybe Vinestrike had known Nettlefur would've told her off enough on the way back, anyway. Heronkit dived into the concealing bramble nursery, wanting to sleep before she could get punished again. The light was dim but she could make out her brother, Pinekit, and the queen who was fostering the two siblings – Whitefoot.

Whitefoot blinked her soft green eyes at Heronkit. "I'm so glad you're all right, Heronkit," she whispered gently. "Now get some sleep. You chose a fine day to disobey the rules," the queen added sarcastically, "you need energy now more than ever."

Heronkit yawned in reply, feeling tiredness wash through her in waves. She sank down beside Pinekit and fell almost instantly into sleep.

When she next woke, the sun was high in the sky and it was to see Pinekit stood over her with a mouse clasped in his small jaws.

"Hey, Heronkit, I bet you're hungry," her brother mumbled.

"Starving!" Heronkit yawned, stretching her rested limbs. Pinekit settled down beside her and the two kits demolished the mouse with their powerful teeth.

"Hey, Pinekit, I'm sorry I left you and just ran out on my own," Heronkit mewed apologetically.

The black kit snorted. "Don't be. Rather you than me!" he grinned at her. "You're the one in trouble, so I don't see why you should be sorry."

"Kits," Whitefoot mewed, entering the nursery again. "It's almost time." She looked worried. The gentle queen curled around the kits and washed their fur clean with rough licks. Heronkit relaxed against Whitefoot's soft fur.

Sometimes Whitefoot felt like more of a mother to the kits than Vinestrike did. They had to have had a foster mother because Vinestrike was busy with her deputy duties and, after the kitting, had got back to being a warrior as soon as she could stand upright again. Whitefoot was more gentle and loving than Vinestrike, anyway, so the kits didn't mind that much.

"What's the test we have to face, Whitefoot?" Pinekit mewed. Heronkit felt the stirrings of worry. She hadn't given much thought to the challenge, but she knew they had to pass it to become apprentices. The challenge was kept a secret from the kits. It was meant to show if they were worthy to be an apprentice. All four Clans did the same, ever since the leaders changed the rules.

Whitefoot stiffened. "You'll... you'll see later. But it involves all five of you kits."

"So we'll be taking the assessment with Jumpkit, Owlkit and Hawkkit, too?" Heronkit mewed. The other three kits in the nursery were a bit older than herself and Pinekit.

"What happens if we don't pass?" Pinekit chirped. He looked pretty laid-back, certain he would make it. Heronkit, however, felt anxiety twisting her stomach.

Whitefoot didn't reply, and there was a long silence before Ratclaw, one of the younger warriors, entered the nursery and told them it was time.

Whitefoot followed the two littermates as they left the nursery. The Clan was gathered around the centre of the clearing, and Heronkit's legs felt wobbly as they neared the strong, proud warriors who turned their eyes on her. She was glad of Pinekit beside her, keeping her company.

"Come, kits," rumbled the deep voice of Tanglestar. The warriors parted to let them through into the centre of the camp, where they joined Hawkkit, Jumpkit and Owlkit. The three tabby toms nodded at the arrivals, their eyes wide with nervousness.

Tanglestar was stood in front of them with Vinestrike at his side. Heronkit was in awe of her leader. He was huge, with a dark coat of long, tangled fur and large amber eyes. She had never been this close to him before. She tried to stop herself from trembling, or shrinking against Pinekit.

"Today will mark the ceremony of our newest apprentices," Tanglestar's voice rang out clearly through the camp. "But to be accepted fully into the ranks of ThunderClan, there is a challenge that awaits them. Not all of you will pass. In this challenge, you will have to prove yourself worthy of being a ThunderClan cat."

His broad head swung towards his deputy, and it was Vinestrike who continued the speech. "The challenge will introduce you to the harshest of penalties Clan punishments have to offer. Your loyalty to us will earn you rewards and status within the Clan; breaking the rules, or betraying ThunderClan in any way, will provoke punishment. The most severe of these is death."

 _Death_. The kits were as silent as ghosts. Their short legs trembled as a breeze ruffled the cats' pelts. Heronkit's heart began to pound, and fear bubbled in the pit of her stomach. _What's going to happen to us? What will we have to do?_ Until now, she'd thought of the challenge as something like the apprentices' assessments – go out, catch some prey, have a battle training competition, something like that. But this seemed much harsher.

Vinestrike's gaze swept past the kits. Her words were emotionless as she meowed, "Your challenge is to fight. You must fight one another... to the death. The last few cats standing will be apprentices."

Heronkit couldn't believe it. She heard the words, but she couldn't take it in. She couldn't bear to look beside her, where Pinekit was stood. She felt her own shock reflected in the movements of all the others stood in a line on either side of her.

Tanglestar and Vinestrike stepped back until they were stood among the crowd. The cats of the Clan were positioned in a circle around the kits. There was no escape. Heronkit raised her gaze to Pinekit.

"I can't fight you," she whispered desperately, her voice reaching only his ears. Pinekit's eyes were stretched wide as suns. He looked terrified.

"You may begin," Vinestrike meowed.

Heronkit felt a few seconds of doubt. What if none of the kits fought each other? What if they all stood, shivering, refusing to fight? Pinekit was still stood, motionless, in front of her.

But then Heronkit felt a heavy weight on her back, and she was bowled over. Instantly the need to survive kicked in. _I'm going to get killed!_ Claws unsheathed, she lashed out blindly, trying to dislodge the weight that was pressing her chin to the floor. She felt her paws hit something, and she managed to shake her attacker off. As she scrambled to her paws she saw it was Owlkit, his familiar amber eyes wide and glaring.

At the sight of her denmate's face, Heronkit felt ashamed of herself for scratching him. She opened her jaws to say something, but then Owlkit leapt to his paws and barrelled into her. _Is my denmate actually trying to kill me?_ For some reason, she couldn't believe it. How could Tanglestar and Vinestrike have turned them so suddenly, so completely, against each other?

But then Owlkit's claws flashed in front of her, and she felt pain explode in one cheek. Heronkit gasped, but instead of staggering backwards she felt herself lunging, claws outstretched. Owlkit met her head-on and the two kits tussled, writhing on the sandy floor. Heronkit sank her teeth into Owlkit's tail. _Maybe now he'll stop attacking me_ , she thought.

But as Owlkit yowled in pain, Heronkit felt something sharp swiping at one of her flanks. She turned, blood dripping down her cheek wound, half-blinded with pain, to face Hawkkit. Hawkkit leaped at her, his teeth aiming for her face, but Heronkit dived underneath him and swiped at his belly. He yowled and did a strange little leap to avoid her.

Heronkit looked around. Pinekit and Owlkit were locked in a whirl of claws. Hawkkit, who was facing her again, was joined by Jumpkit. Heronkit saw the two toms, who she'd played a harmless game of moss ball with only yesterday, and felt a deep sorrow inside her. She lashed out blindly, not looking at whatever her claws were doing, not wanting to see who was attacking her.

They were denmates. Not enemies. Heronkit fought with teeth and claws, and she felt claws scratching at her pelt and bodies slamming against her. After a while, she merely collapsed on the floor and lay there, with her head pressed into the blood-streaked earth. No-one challenged her. They must have been fighting amongst themselves.

Heronkit dragged herself to her paws, and when she did she felt shocked. Owlkit was in front of her. His eyes were open wide, but his body was rigid and his stare was blank. He was dead.

Stifling a yowl, Heronkit staggered backwards, feeling pain tugging at her heart. Then something smashed into her, and she found herself lying flat on her back. Her attacker stood over her, pinning her down. She took in black fur, bared teeth, a frightening green gaze. _Pinekit!_

"Pinekit! It's me!" she choked out, struggling feebly. "It's Heronkit!" This strange, vicious kit wasn't the Pinekit she knew.

For a second the kit paused, and then recognition flooded his gaze. "H-Heronkit?" he whispered. Heronkit was staring, horrified, at the blood on his claws and the gashes that streaked his flank.

"Go on. Do it," she croaked out. "One of us has to die, and I'd rather it'd be me than you."

Pinekit was frozen. Then Jumpkit suddenly crashed into them both, and the three kits were locked together. The instinct, the need to survive, rushed through Heronkit again and she felt blinded. She clawed at clumps of fur, snapping her teeth, wondering if Jumpkit had killed his remaining brother, Hawkkit. She felt one of the lumps of fur in front of her give way and she pinned it to the ground. _I am stronger,_ she found herself thinking. A red mist clouded her vision. Everything was a blur. What was happening? _What am I doing? Am I winning, or am I getting killed?_

But then, suddenly, the bloodlust faded away. Her heart thumped. Heronkit stared at the body beneath her claws. _No. No. This isn't happening._ Pinekit's stare was empty, his mouth still open in a snarl, teeth still dripping with blood. _With_ my _blood._

"Pinekit," Heronkit whimpered, backing away. "Pinekit! No!" A yowl streamed from her jaws. She felt something pressing against her. She heard a voice.

"It's all right, Heronkit. You don't have to fight any more. It's okay." It sounded like Brownwhisker, the medicine cat. Heronkit felt a tongue brushing the fur on her head. She didn't know what was happening. Her heart was thudding, beating out the rhythm of the names of the dead kits. _Pinekit, Owlkit, Pinekit, Owlkit..._ Were Jumpkit and Hawkkit dead as well? Heronkit couldn't bear it. She wanted to wail, to yowl again, but there was a lump in her throat. She couldn't breathe.

Then Brownwhisker stepped away from her, and she looked around. Jumpkit was stood motionless near her, his ears flat to his head. _He must have killed Hawkkit._

Tanglestar stepped forwards, and said the words of the ceremony. Heronkit supposed she must now be called Heronpaw, and Jumpkit Jumppaw, but none of the words were making any impression on her. She kept her gaze fixed on Pinekit – a heap of unmoving black fur a few paces away.

 _I killed him! I killed my brother! I'm a monster! What have I done?_ Heronkit wanted to yowl to StarClan. _I should be dead, not him!_

"Heronpaw! Jumppaw! Heronpaw! Jumppaw!" the Clan cheered. Slowly, the words began to make sense. Heronpaw stared blindly around, and then caught Jumppaw's eye. He still looked bewildered. All Heronpaw could think was, _we're both killers. We're murderers._

"Heronpaw?" a voice mewed softly. Heronpaw recognized that voice. _Whitefoot._ Suddenly, Heronpaw didn't want to face Whitefoot, the cat who loved her and her brother like they were her own. Didn't want to see the grief, the disappointment.

Heronpaw spied the opening in the wall of thorns that was the apprentices' den. She ran to it, wanting to be alone, to avoid all the eyes. She heard Jumppaw say her name, but she ignored him and threw herself into a clump of moss.

She buried her head in her nest, a sob rising in her throat, eyes squeezed shut. Finally, she was an apprentice. But it had come with a price. Yesterday, Heronpaw would've given anything to make her dream of being an apprentice come true. Now, she'd rather be the one lying on the blood-soaked soil.

Because the price had been too high. She had had to kill her own brother.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Hey, Heronpaw, wake up!"

She groaned and pressed deeper into the moss as if it would hide her from sight. The smell of dried blood and the clean, unfamiliar moss brought back memories of the day before with a sharp, startling clarity.

"Heronpaw, Jumppaw. Your mentors are waiting." There was that voice again.

"Mentors?" the black and white she-cat lifted her head, confused. Tawnypaw was stood in front of her, his golden-brown tabby fur rippling in sleek waves as a soft breeze ruffled the fern walls of the den. The older tom's amber eyes were gleaming in amusement as he regarded the young apprentice.

"Yeah, _mentors_. You're an apprentice now!" he meowed, nudging Jumppaw with one paw. Jumppaw pushed him aside irritably, rising to his paws. Heronpaw stared at the toms uncomprehendingly, trying to remember who her mentor was. The ceremony had gone by in a blur of grief and pain.

Jumppaw spotted her expression and sighed. "My mentor is Yewbelly, and yours is Foxdrift." His sigh, the way he spoke to her – as if he was disappointed – ruffled Heronpaw's fur. She didn't have time to glare at him, however, because Tawnypaw was weaving his way past them and out the entrance, tail waving in the air, blocking her view.

 _I think I hate all my new denmates_ , the she-cat thought, scowling to herself. She deliberately spent longer inside the den than usual, sat in the corner among the leafy stems of the fern walls, washing her fur with long, slow strokes of her tongue. She didn't look at Jumppaw. Tawnypaw's brother, Shrewpaw, was already outside but his scent lingered in the den. Heronpaw didn't want to leave the privacy of the soft green walls. What must her Clanmates think about her now? The apprentice that killed her brother.

But then she realised that _all_ the warriors must have had to kill, at only three moons old, to become apprentices. Just like her. That thought didn't make her feel any better. She thought of Pinekit and grief stabbed her heart.

"Heronpaw? You in there?" Yewbelly stuck his head inside the den. Heronpaw recognized the tabby – his unassuming striped pelt, amber eyes and the unusual pale brown fur of his belly that gave him his name. "Foxdrift's waiting for you."

 _Let Foxdrift wait,_ Heronpaw thought mutinously. _I don't care_. But eventually she dragged herself outside.

"Ah, my new apprentice. There you are."

Heronpaw raised her head and saw her mentor properly for the first time. Foxdrift was a tall tom, with dark russet tabby fur and narrow, graceful shoulders. His piercing yellow eyes stared levelly down at her. Heronpaw's eyes grew wide. _My mentor. He's going to train me to be a warrior!_ For a heartbeat, she forgot the pain of losing Pinekit and joy flooded her.

"Come. I've been told you've already had a taste of the forest outside the camp boundaries, but let's go out _again_ ," Foxdrift meowed slyly, regarding her in amusement. Heronpaw squirmed in embarrassment, remembering her rebellious dash out of a small tunnel in the very back of the camp. Of course Foxdrift knew about that.

Heronpaw followed the tom as he led her to the camp entrance. She was silent, not sure what to say, wishing Pinekit was with her.

Foxdrift glanced back at her as she trotted obediently at his side. "Heronpaw, no cat blames you about what happened," he meowed. "It's quite normal in the assessment. You're not alone."

Heronpaw swallowed. His words made a painful lump form in her throat, and she couldn't speak. Instead she focused on climbing the steep sandy slope of the ravine, scrambling over rocks and trying not to slip. When they reached the top, Foxdrift halted her with a sweep of his ginger tail.

"What do you smell?" he meowed.

Heronpaw paused and took a deep breath, raising her nose to the air. The forest opened up around her, and she could see tall trees with skeletal branches covered in small green buds. "I can smell green leaves... and dog, but it seems far away."

Foxdrift stared at her closely. Heronpaw glanced at him, and mewed, "And prey. And... cats? Really fresh cat scent." Then she realised that she could probably smell cats because there was a camp teeming with them right behind her. Embarrassment flooded through her and she ducked her head between her shoulders, waiting for Foxdrift to say something.

But all he said was, "Good. You've picked up on the patrol heading in our direction."

 _Patrol? What patrol?_ Heronpaw gaped at him, and he gave her a sly wink as three cats emerged from the foliage.

"Hey, Foxdrift. Giving young Heronpaw a tour of the forest?" Cinderfoot, the most senior warrior, meowed warmly, smiling at Heronpaw. Following him was Nettlefur and Whitefoot.

The black and white queen immediately rushed forwards and pressed her muzzle against the apprentice. "It's okay, Heronpaw," Whitefoot whispered. "I don't blame you. You had no other choice. One of you would have died anyway. I still love you."

Heronpaw heard a choking sound coming from her throat as she tried to reply. "Thank you," she managed to get out. Whitefoot's words, and Foxdrift's statement that what she had done was a fairly normal occurrence in the assessment, made her feel a bit better although there was a dark hole in her heart where Pinekit once was. Heronpaw knew she would never forgive herself for killing him, but she hoped he'd forgive her in StarClan.

"Come on," Foxdrift meowed as Whitefoot drew back, "let's go." He nodded to Cinderfoot as the grey warrior led his patrol down the ravine.

"Where are we going?" Heronpaw mewed, trying to feel optimistic.

"To the sandy hollow to begin training," Foxdrift meowed, leaping ahead with his long legs. "But I'll show you one of ThunderClan's landmarks along the way."

Heronpaw bounded after him, feeling sunlight on her pelt and last leaf-fall's leaves under her paws. Foxdrift was so fast, gliding along the forest floor as though he had wings. Heronpaw shot after him as fast as her stumpy legs would let her, hoping she wouldn't fall flat on her face. Eventually they reached a massive tree that stood out from the rest. Its branches arched up into the sky, and Heronpaw craned her neck, trying to see the top.

"The Owl Tree," Foxdrift meowed proudly.

"Owl?" Heronpaw mewed.

"An owl lives here," her mentor replied. "Best not get too close. Stories say that a legendary ThunderClan apprentice, Owlpaw, learned to hunt at night by following an owl that lived in this very tree."

"How do you know it's not the same owl that lives here now?" Heronpaw challenged. It was a stupid question, one a kit might ask, but she was really trying to distract herself from thinking of Owlkit, the kit who died in front of her, Jumppaw's brother.

Foxdrift let out a _mrrow_ of laughter, regarding her through half-narrowed eyes. "Maybe it is, Heronpaw. But if it is, then this owl must be the oldest creature in the forest!" He rose to his paws and began padding away from the Owl Tree. Heronpaw followed at his heels.

When they got to the sandy hollow, Heronpaw realised that they weren't alone. Jumppaw and Yewbelly were there. Yewbelly was talking to his apprentice, who was listening closely. Heronpaw felt a prickle of annoyance.

"Do we have to train with _them_?" she mewed irritably to Foxdrift, who's whiskers merely twitched in amusement.

"Why not?" the ginger tom meowed. "You and Jumppaw will be going through your training side-by-side." Heronpaw huffed. She wasn't sure she liked Jumppaw that much.

"Ah, Foxdrift," Yewbelly, the older warrior of the two, meowed warmly, beckoning the arrivals with his tail. Heronpaw was aware of Jumppaw trying to catch her eye, but she stubbornly, determinedly avoided looking at him and tipped back her head to watch the warriors closely.

"What are we learning?" Heronpaw mewed inquisitively.

"We were thinking battle techniques," Yewbelly meowed. "So first, why don't we have you and Jumppaw face each other. We'll evaluate what you can do with instinct and then build on your styles." Foxdrift nodded, sat with his tail curled around his paws.

 _Battle techniques?_ Heronpaw swallowed nervously. She didn't want to fight. She remembered facing Jumppaw at the apprenticeship assessment. And now she was facing him again, hardly a day later.

Jumppaw rushed at her. Heronpaw swiped at his muzzle but he ducked, ramming into her. Heronpaw lay flat on her back, but as Jumppaw approached she caught his flank with her paws. He hissed and jumped on her, flattening her to the ground.

She felt his paws raking her belly and thanked StarClan his claws were sheathed. Heronpaw wanted to do something to protect herself, but she didn't want to _fight_ Jumppaw again. She slammed her paws against him as hard as she could, and he lost his balance.

Jumppaw snapped at her ear with his jaws, and suddenly terror shot through Heronpaw. She didn't like this. She hated every minute of it. She didn't want to get hurt and she didn't want to hurt Jumppaw.

"No! I'm not doing this," Heronpaw heard herself hiss. It was as if her body acted of its own accord as she spun around and raced away into the trees.

"Heronpaw!" Foxdrift hissed after her, but she ignored him and ran as fast as she could.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Heronpaw's sides heaved as she fought for breath. Her paws hurt and were freezing cold against the hard newleaf earth. Yet still she ran, pelting through the forest as fast as an arrow, streaking past trees and clawing her way through bramble thickets that snagged sharp claws in her pelt. Panic bubbled inside her. The image of Pinekit swam in front of her vision, and she skidded to a sharp halt in front of a tree that had suddenly materialised in front of her, a whisker-length away from cannoning into it.

Sucking in a huge gulp of air, she allowed a few heartbeats to let herself recover from the shock that made her whiskers quiver, staring disoriented at the rough bark in front of her nose, before leaping up and running again.

After more blind running, she became vaguely aware of the landscape around her changing. The thick undergrowth turned to flat ground with layers of prickly needles underpaw, and the trees looked different. A sharp smell stung her kitten-pink nose. But the thing that brought her to a halt was the sudden, huge panel of wood that loomed in front of her.

 _Stop!_ Heronpaw's paws skidded as she fought to get to a halt. But momentum threw her forward and one of her flanks slammed into the wood, knocking the breath out of her.

She crouched there, in an unfamiliar place, staring without seeing, every breath she took searing pain in her sides. The apprentice was vaguely aware that she was trembling from ears to tail. She didn't want to fight Jumppaw. She hadn't wanted to fight Pinekit. _And now he's dead!_ A voice yowled inside her, fighting to break free. _He's dead and it's all your fault!_ Heronkit crouched lower to the ground, her ears flat to her head and her eyes squeezed shut against the torment raging inside her. She wondered if she was going to burst, if she didn't let anything out soon. She wanted to yowl to StarClan, to let them know how unfair everything was.

 _I'm not going back!_ She was going to jump over this fence, and run away. As she came to this reckless decision, Heronpaw stood and backed away a few paces, her head tipped back, regarding the strange Twoleg-made fence that separated their world from hers. She knew she was at the edge of ThunderClan territory, in a place she had heard was called Tallpines. The fence was so high, she could barely see the top of it. It was too tall to jump over; Heronpaw was still as little and stumpy as a kit, even if she was an apprentice now. But the wood looked soft, and she guessed she could hang onto it with her claws and drag herself to the top.

Heronpaw wondered whether she could do it. Would she have the courage to run away? If she went back, they'd make her kill someone again, she was sure of it. _I'm three moons old! I'm not ready for any of this!_ Maybe she could just get to the top, and peek over at the world beyond. Just for a look. See whether the Twolegplace really was as bad as they said it was.

As she crouched down, wriggling her hindquarters, preparing to make the first leap, a voice called, "Heronpaw!"

Whipping around, she saw Foxdrift bursting from the trees. He looked shocked but relieved to find her unharmed.

Then his amber eyes widened as Heronpaw hissed at him, swiping the air with one small forepaw. "Get away from me!" she spat. "I know what you're trying to do! Well, I won't do it! I'm not killing any more of my Clanmates! I don't care what you think!" For good measure, she backed a few steps away from the young warrior.

Foxdrift looked at her, and sighed. He slowly sat down, curling his tail over his paws. Heronpaw regarded him warily. "Heronpaw," her mentor meowed calmly. "It's okay. I'm not going to make you fight any more. Just, don't run off. Anything could happen to you out here. You're just a kit."

"I'm an apprentice," she muttered, but Foxdrift didn't reply. Slowly, she dropped her hackles and padded closer.

"All right, no battle training today," Foxdrift meowed. "Why don't I teach you a hunting technique, instead?"

Heronpaw blinked nervously. "Will we have to go back to the sandy hollow?"

"No. We'll do it right here," Foxdrift replied, sweeping a space clean of pine needles with his tail. "Watch what I do and copy me." Light as a feather, he jumped to his paws and assumed a crouching position. Heronkit, feeling more relaxed, watched how his head sank low between his shoulders and his tail was poised above the ground, and how he gathered his hind paws under him. She hastily crouched next to him, trying to mimic his position.

"Not bad," Foxdrift meowed. "Let's see if you can keep it like that when you stalk." Obediently, she prowled across the forest floor slowly, pretending she was creeping up on a mouse.

"Good. But don't forget to keep your tail still, and watch where you're placing your paws," Foxdrift suggested.

For the rest of the day Foxdrift had Heronpaw practice, until the sun began to dip in the sky and they returned to camp, Foxdrift catching a few mice and voles along the way. Heronpaw was feeling slightly more cheerful as they neared the camp entrance, promising her mentor she'd practice the hunting crouch for tomorrow.

Inside the thorn tunnel, they found their way blocked by Vinestrike. The deputy's eyes flashed at the sight of them. "Foxdrift, Heronpaw, what have you two been doing today?" she meowed in a dangerously soft voice.

Foxdrift dropped his fresh-kill, meowing, "Hunting techniques." His voice was even, but Heronpaw saw a defensive look on his face.

"Really? Already?" Vinestrike hissed. "I thought Tanglestar has made it clear that battle practice comes before hunting. Can Heronpaw fight? If, say, ShadowClan were to attack tomorrow, would she be able to prove herself useful to her Clan? No."

"Heronpaw didn't want to fight today, not after what happened yesterday," Foxdrift replied.

Vinestrike looked at Heronpaw, who felt like shrinking under her mother's fierce stare. "Well, Heronpaw will just have to learn to accept that in ThunderClan, fighting is more important than hunting."

"It was just for today," Foxdrift meowed. "We're going to carry on with the training regime tomorrow."

"Good," Vinestrike meowed. She narrowed her eyes at Foxdrift. "You were a good apprentice, Foxdrift. You showed promise. Pass on your qualities to Heronpaw."

Foxdrift's lip curled in amusement. "Isn't that what I was told at the apprentice ceremony? Didn't I promise to do that? You don't have to remind me, Vinestrike."

"Good," she replied in a silky, velvety voice. Foxdrift picked up his prey and the two cats slipped past the deputy and into the camp.

"Heronpaw," Foxdrift meowed, after depositing his catch, "I've let you off for today, but you know fighting is a necessary thing to learn. It's how I was taught, too, and it's what Tanglestar wants us to do. You'll be behind Jumppaw in training now, so you'll have to put extra effort in to catch up."

"I will, Foxdrift," Heronpaw meowed, feeling disappointed but knowing she had no other choice.

"Now, get something to eat and then practice what I taught you today," Foxdrift meowed. He flashed her a sly, sharp-toothed grin. "Tomorrow you can imagine your enemies are your prey."


End file.
